There are a thousand clichés I could use for nearly a month passing and not writing a post. This morning when I sat down to write the only thing that seemed appropriate was the truth.
And the truth is – each time I began writing I found myself filled with loss, sadness, and bullshit. The sadness and loss was coming from a place within me that I hadn’t visited since who knows when – my heart. The bullshit was coming from my head. The words I would write were truthful, but emotionless. For those of you who have come to know me through this blog, and those of you that know me in the flesh will know that I’m full of emotion, passion, adventure, and love.
As I was busy living life I blamed the busyness for my writers block, and distracting me from sharing. Each time I sat at my computer to write a huge lump would swell in my throat, and not wanting to allow it to flow from me I would do what most of us do – choke back the emotion.
How many of you, like me, do that each and every day just to get through? How many of you like me lie to ourselves?
Over the long weekend I’ve had lots of time to meditate, to reflect, and to have truthful conversations with myself. During this time the realisation of enough was enough hit home – I cried, I allowed the thoughts, the love, the passion, the lump in my throat to spew forth and purge. I meditated on what I would share with you, and remembered the commitment I made when I launched this blog: I would only share the truth – warts and all.
In December 2012 I made the decision to create a lifestyle that was sustainable, while moving through a journey of self-discovery, all the while focusing on losing weight. Let’s face it I was morbidly obese and needed to change; and I have. During that time I have experienced euphoric moments of happiness, sadness so deep that it ripped out my core, yet the whole time I kept moving forward on my journey – this journey with you.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve celebrated birthdays with family, survival with those I love unconditionally, I’ve watched a dear friend bury her brother who chose to take his own life at only 20 years old, I’ve experienced joy at cuddling for hours on end the twins of my best friend, and I made a commitment to gain detailed knowledge about fitness. Most of this I have shared, but what I haven’t share is the deep struggle I’ve had keeping on track.
Yes, I’ve kept exercising in the gym, swimming in the pool, and creating healthy recipes to share with you all. But I didn’t share the battle I was facing each day. I was scared if I told you all the truth you would think me a fraud, even worse a failure. That was something I felt I couldn’t risk. Denial was easier, or so I thought.
It’s amazing how the moments of clarity hit at the most unexpected times. For me, it happened after a second night of insomnia around 3:30 in the morning. I wasn’t, and I am not a failure. I am successful. I have, and continue to create an amazing life. Just because I diverted from the plan, doesn’t mean I fucked up, and should throw all my success away.
I needed to do something that I constantly tell others to do:
Stop, breathe, forgive yourself, and move on.
Throughout the past few months I had forgotten to do exactly that. I kept holding on to the past, instead of allowing the echoes to fade and live in the moment.
Over the past couple of days I’ve cried like a baby, I’ve prayed, I’ve cuddled my cats, I’ve purged, and I’ve cried some more. I cried for who I was. It sounds so bloody clichéd but I forgot to love me.
So what happens now?
I will take a couple of days to reflect. I will spend time with people I love. I will simply pick up the pieces and start afresh. Each day is new, and so should be my thoughts, my attitude, my approach to creating a sustainable healthy, bloody amazing, life.